Momma always used to stand me in front of a mirror brushing my hair and telling me I'm beautiful
Years later, She stood me in front of me a mirror and said "Don't eat to much, but clean your plate."
I used to watch her Mumbling to herself Something over and over While looking in the mirror
Years later, I caught myself doing the same.
I don't know why. It was just something I assumed adults did I though it was a big girl problem I wanted to be a big girl like my momma.
I would hear girls whisper about it In the halls and in the bathroom at school.
I listened very closely To learn more about it Along with ways to fix it
There were many different ways According to the girls in school. Vomiting Pills Not eating
I tried the one That was mentioned the most.
Mamma once told me not to eat to much, Now she would cry And beg me to eat anything.
Dinner time once was my favorite part of the day, But now It became a battle ground Of harsh words And accusing stares
Nobody wanted To share the table With a skeleton in the room.
Mamma no longer told me I was pretty, I was ugly And fragile to her
Years later, An uphill battle took place, I was sick all the time And wanted a change
I got better, Ate more food Even when it made me sick
Mamma told me I was pretty again, Even though I felt Ugly and Fat.
Fat is such an ugly word, But used in bounty in society. It breaks young girls down Turns them into skeletons
When my pants don't fit I feel my old feelings Begin creeping Into my mind.
I mentioned it to my momma And she told me, "You know what mine don't either, I'm getting fat."
She always did this, If she had not always mumbled "she was fat" "needed to lose weight" I might've been okay
That's when I realized, I didn't learn how to not eat from the girls at school
Mamma didn't eat when she said she was fat and needed to lose weight.